Terrible Things
by CaptainRoseria
Summary: Jim is assaulted during a night out on Shore Leave with Spock. The aftermath proves difficult for both. Established Kirk/Spock.
1. Chapter 1

My first fanfic!

Usual disclaimer: I own nothing.

**Warnings: Rape/Non-con **

**Terrible Things**

**Chapter 1**

The downtown suburbs of San Francisco were bustling with the typical Friday night atmosphere that was to be expected. The shouts of drunken men and loud music was all that could be heard, much to Spock's discomfort. He absentmindely straightened his black jacket as the ventured further down the stree. He frowned as his eardrums pounded in beat to the blasts of music coming from the clubs. Spock and his Captain had taken a misinformed detour on their way back to their temporary accommodation at Starfleet HQ and ended up in the midst of numerous parties in full swing.

"Captain, I suggest we find an exit from this street as quickly as possible," Spock said, as he lent in closer to Jim so the human would be able to hear him over the noise.

"Aw, c'mon, Spock!" the Captain replied, hitting his companion on the arm. "Where's your sense of adventure?

_One would hardly call this an adventure, Captain. An exploration of a species with wild behaviour patterns, pehaps, _Spock thought.

This really was not what Spock had had in mind when he and Jim had planned their activities for the commencing shore leave. The Vulcan had no interests in trying new cuisine in a newly-opened restaurant just a couple of blocks away from where they were staying but Jim had insisted, using the old "but it'll be fun" reasoning. No doubt, the restaurant held a pleasant atmosphere and Spock had very much enjoyed being in Jim's company without having the demands of their ranks having priority over their blossoming relationship. The pair stuck very close together as they made their way down the crowded street.

"Hey! There's that bar Scotty told us about," Jim said, pointing to a neon-lit sign entitled 'The Lounge'. Not a creative name but Spock had to admit, this bar did not look as cheap or raunchy as some of the others had done, so he followed Jim's confident stride towards the entrance. They entered, with the smell of alcohol and perfume hitting them like a brick wall. The room did not have sufficient enough lighting by Spock's standards as the Vulcan found himself squinting to survey the room. A large dancefloor was in the centre, with a mix of couches and tables surrounding it. The dancefloor was completely overcrowded, with the occupyers contorting their bodies in all sorts of ways to please the drunken spectators surrounding them, cheering and drooling. Spock felt extremely uncomfortable.

"Jim," the Vulcan said, leaning closer to his Captain. "I do not believe this establishment is adequately safe."

"Relax, Spock. Scotty said the cocktails were mind-blowing so I just want to try one." Kirk widened his eyes, like a puppy begging to be let of its leash. "Just one little cocktail."

Spock nodded. "Very well. One and then we retire back to our accommodation."

The duo made their way towards the bar and Jim ordered what he wanted. Whilst the bartender made Jim's drink, Spock stood with his back to the bar and looked around the room. The music wasn't as loud as other bars but it was still as heavy. A group of well-built huamn men caught the Vulcan's sharp gaze. They looked intoxicated to say the least, one of them looking like he was about to throw the entire contents of his stomach at any second. Spock internally shivered. The sooner Jim was done with his drink, the better.

The next thing Spock saw out of the corner of his eye was Jim gulping heavily at a blue liquid in a clear glass, with some sort of fruit floating across the top. The liquid bubbled slightly as it passed Jim's lips, trickles missing and running down his chin. Elegance was never Jim's forte. He had drank half of it when he stopped and set the glass down on the bar.

"Well?" Spock inquired.

Jim coughed and shoved a hand to his mouth, making long strides to the bathroom whilst shaking his head. The Vulcan's mouth twisted into a smile at one end. Typical. He decided to give his Captain some space so he turned back to the bar and sat down on one of the empty stools, keeping his hands neatly folded on his lap. After a few minutes had passed, concern for Jim began to flurry through Spock's mind. The Captain had still not returned from the bathroom and it was extremely unlikely that Kirk would have left without retrieving Spock first. He stood, but something caught his eye. The liquid that Jim had been drinking had turned a pale green colour and was beginning to effervesce around the surface.

Something is wrong. The drink had been drugged.

Spock leapt across the room, almost knocking a number of the dancers over as he moved, being more bothered about finding Kirk than beating the individual who had done this to a pulp. He shoved the door to the bathroom open with a heavy push only finding a large, middle-aged male passed out in one of the stalls. Spock felt his pulse increase as his emotions began to overpower his logic; worry consuming his mind.

No, he would be of no use to Jim if he allowed his human half to become dominant.

Spock took a sharp intake of breath and made his way out of the bathroom and out of the front entrance. The Captain must have come out for fresh air. That was the most logical explanation there was. His gaze darted to every face that bustled down the street, hoping he would find the young face of his t'hy'la. Suddenly, a jolt of static echoed through his mind and Spock was drawn to one of the alleyways. He was moving before had even properly processed what the spark in his mind was.

The alleyway was dark, the only light being from the neon signs in the streets. Groans and laughs were all Spock could hear as he tried his best to ignore the loud beats of the music from the surrounding bars. With all emotion waiting to burst forward, he ran down the back street with a long stride, his fists clenched. The silhouettes of three men came into view, all crowded round a fourth body who was undoubtedly being restrained against his will. He stooped low and walked slower towards the gang, hoping they hadn't spotted him. Spock immediately recognised the three burly men as the ones who had previously caught the Vulcan's gaze in the bar.

The fourth man -the one with his no trousers on, his legs in the air, a large hand clamped around his mouth and his hands tied underneath him- was Jim. _His_ Jim.

The drunkest of the trio was sat behind Kirk, with an arm across his chest and a hand over his mouth, the other hand rubbing and caressing any piece of skin it could find. Another was kneeling in front of the Captain between his open legs, his hand clamped firmly around Jim's dick whilst simultaneously pounding into his ass. Spock immediately noticed that Jim was on the verge of unconsciousness as his eyelids were slowly closing and the moans that were being forced from his throat were getting quieter. The third stood watch over the action, his own dick in his hand as he stroked himself hard, muttering obscene phrases under his breath.

With a snarl, Spock leapt forwards and immediately nerve-pinched the kneeling-man away from Jim and turned to upward-punch the standing man, knocking him out cold as he hit the ground hard. The Vulcan only took a step towards the most intoxicated of the three males and he let go of Jim in a panic, obviously in fear. He ran to cower in the corner of the alley but Spock held no mercy. He gripped the front of the man's jacket and raised him off of the ground by his neck, strangling him until enough oxygen had been lost in order for him to pass out. Spock tossed the vile male aside and exhaled sharply, emotion overwhelming every sense.

The Vulcan turned and knelt next to Jim, who lay shivering on the cold floor, his legs still spread open His Captain had passed out, making it slightly easier for Spock to untie his hands and quickly assess the damage. Bruising had already began to show on Jim's face, with a trickle of blood running down his temple. Spock traced his thumb over his cheek, wiping away a tear that had fallen in the midst of the chaos. Jim's lip was split in numerous places and there were handmarks and bruising across his thighs and hips, no doubt where he'd been slapped and held open.

Kirk moaned as consciousness began to return to him and he instinctively began to curl in on himself, his muscles tensing.

"Do not struggle, Jim," Spock whispered as he placed his hand over Jim's, "you are safe now."

The Captain moaned again at the sound of Spock's voice and seemed to become more relaxed in his grip. Spock took his communicator from his pocket and called for emergency assistance, ensuring that Doctor McCoy would be waiting to asses Jim's condition when they arrived at the hospital.

Jim's missing clothes were nowhere to be seen, so Spock removed his own jacket and draped it over Jim, covering his modesty. He did not wish to risk moving his Captain onto the busy street, so instead, he hoisted him up into his arms, being exceptionally careful not to cause further harm.

So there Spock stood, his unconscious Captain in his arms. He cradled Jim close to his body for warmth and protection, until help arrived ten minutes later.

* * *

Hopefully this will be a few chapters long, if you like it ^.^

Next Chapter: _"I don't know what to tell you, Spock," Bones replied, rubbing his tired eyes. "His vital signs are healthy and all damage that was done has been properly repaired." The doctor shrugged, seemingly defeated. "He just won't wake up."_


	2. Chapter 2

Terrible Things

Chapter 2

Spock stood outside of Jim's assigned room in the sickbay of Starfleet HQ, his hands held gracefully behind his back. Inside, his heart pulsed rapidly with concern for Jim and a deep anger at the men who had done this to him. Though Jim's attackers were being held in custody and would no doubt be imprisoned, Spock still held a great desire to cause them as much pain as possible, despite his calm, Vulcan mind telling him otherwise. The image of Jim lying unconcious on the gurney in the back of the ambulance burned on Spock's mind. He knew feeling guilty was completely illogical yet here he was; dying to see Jim to desperately apologise.

The door to Kirk's room slowly opened and Doctor McCoy stepped out, rubbing his hand across his brow.

"What news?" Spock asked as his hands fell to his sides.

"I don't know what to tell you, Spock," Bones replied, pulling his long sleeves down from where they were gathered by his elbows. "His vital signs are healthy and all damage that was done has been properly repaired." The doctor shrugged. "He just won't wake up."

"Have you tried-"

McCoy held a hand up in front of the Vulcan's face. "Don't you be suggesting any sort of medical procedure to me. I'm the doctor here. I've tried everything I know and nothin' even comes close."

Spock averted his gaze to the floor. It wasn't that he didn't trust Doctor McCoy, quite the contrary. It was just that Kirk had moaned when Spock had briefly attended to him in the alleyway.

"What of his physical state, doctor?"

"The typical list of an attack like this. Extensive bruising on the hips, thighs and cheeks, scratches across the stomach and..._internal_ damage." McCoy rolled his shoulders in a distressed manner.

Spock nodded as his pulse quickened. The mere thought of anyone inappropriately touching Jim against his will consumed him with emotion.

"You can see him," Bones said as he turned to re-enter Jim's room, holding the door open for the Vulcan to follow. Spock pulled his top down and followed Doctor McCoy into the room, his mind reeling off the possibilities of Jim's inability to return to consciousness. 'Mental trauma' was at the top of Spock's list, closely followed by 'extreme memory repression'. Whatever it was that was keeping Jim from waking up, Spock would get to the bottom of it.

The room was painted a pale blue colour which reminded Spock of the sickbays aboard the Enterprise and would, hopefully, give Jim a sense of familiarity when he woke up.

_If _he woke up.

No, Spock couldn't afford to be pessimistic. '_Or realistic,' _he thought.

Jim was a strong-willed individual with a mind unlike anything Spock had ever connected to before. Spock was harshly reminded of Jim's age when he gazed upon the young face lying peacefully in the bed. The bruising across Kirk's cheeks was more visible in this lighting. The beeps from the heart monitors distracted Spock momentarily as he sat down in the chair beside the bed.

"If any of his vital signs change, the machines will pick up on it right away. Okay?"

Spock nodded. "Thank you, doctor."

With that, the doctor left the room, leaving Spock alone with nothing but the beeps to keep him sane.

He gingerly reached out to touch Jim's hand but recoiled when he noticed the battered knuckles his Captain adorned. Of course, Spock had seen Jim with bloody hands before but knowing the traumatic circumstances behind the cuts was what hurt Spock most. Knowing that, usually, Kirk could have taken on the three men and most likely emerged victorious without Spock's help is what bothered the Vulcan the most.

Jim had been vulnerable and he had not been by his side to protect him.

~xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx~

The morning sun shone brightly through the curtains of the room, signalling to Spock that it had been well over 12 hours since the attack had occured. Jim's condition had not improved. Bones had been in and out numerous times to check on the pair but no noticable change had occured throughout the night. Once alone again, Spock began stroking his thumb over Jim's knuckles, his deep stare locked on the young man's calm face.

"T'hy'la, please," Spock whispered.

The heart monitor suddenly began to beep faster and Spock rose from his seat, yelling for Doctor McCoy to help. Bones practically kicked the door down with a hefty shout of "good god, man!" being heard as he leapt to Jim's side, injecting him with a hypo with a quick shove of the wrist. The beeping slowed back down, signalling Jim's heart rate had returned to its previous steady pace.

Bones backed away and sighed loudly, staring blankly at Spock across the bed."What the hell did you do, Spock?!"

"I touched his hand..." Spock pointed to the exact place on Jim's hand where he had made contact. "And called out to him."

Bones frowned."So you called his name?"

The Vulcan averted his gaze from the doctor to his Captain. "No. I called him t'hy'la. It is a word used in my culture with a specific meaning; friend, brother...lover."

An idea suddenly hit Spock like a tonne of bricks, his eyes lighting up with hope. Well, lighting up as much as his Vulcan heritage would allow.

"Doctor, you agree that the cause of Jim's coma is some sort of mental trauma?"

"Well, yeah."

"And that if something or someone were to enter Jim's mind, it would be entirely possible for them to bring him out of the catatonic state?"

Bones shrugged. "I suppose so. I don't see why you're aski-oh hold on one minute." The doctor pointed a finger at the Vulcan from across the bed. "You mean to do one of your psychic mind-reading acts on Jim?!"

Spock nodded. "A mind-meld, yes, doctor. I see no other valid option available at the present time. We do not know how long Jim can remain in this state without causing permanent damage to his mind. I must help him."

Bones looked at his Captain's young face for a couple of seconds with sad eyes, feeling utterly helpless. _He_ was the one with the vast amounts of medical knowledge and equipment and yet he was unable to aid his best friend. Bones nodded and made his way towards the door, knowing the Vulcan would need peace to be successful.

"Just...be careful, Spock." McCoy left, praying that the two of them be kept safe.

Spock sat down on the side of the bed with grace, being extremely careful not to knock any of the wires attached to Jim's chest. He was slightly reassured by the fact that McCoy would be back in the room in a nanosecond if anything irregular displayed on the monitors. However, if this mind-meld was unsuccessful, Spock knew he could potentially lose Jim forever.

* * *

_Next chapter: "Jim." The word sounded like it had been ripped from the Vulcan's throat. Never before had Spock seen his Captain so visibly afraid. "I am here to help you, Jim. Do you know where you are?"_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The Vulcan traced two fingers across Jim's battered hand, sweeping it across his wrist and feeling the pace of the human's pulse beneath them. He watched Jim's chest rise and fall in a steady manner and Spock contemplated just how fragile humans were. His mind began to drift and the guilt of not being there for his bondmate crept into his thoughts but he tried his upmost to stay logical.

Without saying a word, he placed his fingers on the key meld-points of Jim's face but being surprised at how cold the skin was beneath his touch. Not a positive sign, he mentally noted. He gave one last look to his Captain's face before closing his eyes and mentally reached out to connect to Jim's mind. Only moments had passed when Spock felt a sharp jolt of energy bolt through his own consciousness, exactly like what he had felt when he had been drawn towards the alleyway where he had first found Jim. He took a sharp intake of breath as he felt their minds being pulled into one.

~xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx~

Spock opened his eyes slowly to find himself kneeling in a black, empty space. He stood up to his full height and surveyed the area. Complete and utter nothingness, like a room lit by a dying lightbulb.

Suddenly, distant shouts could be heard accompanied by the strong odor of cheap alcohol. He listened closely to the voices, recognising none of them.

"Well, well! What a pretty-lookin' boy we got 'ere!"

"Take a look at those eyes! Never seen nothin' like 'em before, eh, boss?"

"I think he's struggling to hold his liquor down. Take him outside, boys."

Spock shivered as the voices faded and were replaced with loud cries of "_no! Stop!"_ followed closely by slurred moans and gasps of pain. These were Jim's memories of the assault. He began to run to where the voices were coming from but skidded to a sudden halt when they ceased, leaving him standing alone in the silence.

"...S-spock?"

The Vulcan quickly turned on his heels to see a red-faced James Kirk standing before him, his shoulders hunched in on himself anxiously. He looked incredibly distressed, completely dissimilar to the _Enterprise _Captain that Spock was familiar with.

"Jim." The word sounded like it had been ripped from the Vulcan's throat. Never before had Spock seen his Captain so visibly afraid. "I am here to help you, Jim. Do you know where you are?"

The young man nodded. "I'm in sickbay, right? I recognised the smell," he smiled but it soon faded. "Why are you here, Spock? I mean...this is my _mind_, right?"

"Correct, Captain. You have yet to awaken and Doctor McCoy and I were becoming increasingly worried for your mental health." Spock knew that Jim was still mentally recovering from the events on Tarsus IV. Heavens knows how much this attack will set him back. "I performed a mind-meld and...ended up here."

Jim smiled. "So you and Bones have been fussing over me even when I'm completely out of it? Figures."

Spock took a step forward and outstretched his hand, willing Jim to take it, but the young man seemed to shy away.

"I can't go back, Spock. I don't ever want to feel like that ever again. To be so vulnerable...and alone." He shivered as he pointed to his temple. "I can hear them in here...taunting, moaning, telling me how pretty I am and how good I taste. They won't stop!"

Spock was extremely unsure of how to approach the situation. His human half felt like it was going to implode from emotion. He felt like he should say that he'll protect Jim for as long as he needed, to prevent any harm from coming to his Captain ever again. But the words did not form. It was not logical to say he'd be there when Jim needed him because he hadn't been there this time.

"T'hy'la," Spock whispered as he stepped forward and took Jim's hand in his own.

"That word," Kirk stuttered, blinking through the tears that had formed in his eyes, "you called me that before and I felt..."

The words died in his mouth as a spark fluttered between them; an ancient spark that had seemingly been embedded in them since the beginning, the same spark that had led Spock to Jim in the alleyway.

_A friendship that will define you both._

"Friend. Brother. Lover. That is what t'hy'la means," Spock explained. "I shall do my upmost to keep you safe, Jim." He brushed a tear away from Jim's cheek. "And I am sorry for my past failures."

His Captain seemed to visably calm for a moment, a weak smile forming across his lips and Spock sensed an alleviation in anxiety within Jim's mind. Then it all came crashing back down. The teasing voices stared again, getting louder and closer, echoing across the realm of Kirk's mind.

Spock moved hastily to embrace Jim but the Captain stepped away, his knees buckling as he threw his hands against his temples, yelling for the pain to stop. The Vulcan moved to fall with Jim, to grab him, calm him, keep him safe.

"No, Spock! Just _leave_! Now!"

Spock staggered back, visably hurt by the rejection. "Jim, please. Let me help."

"Get _out!" _Jim thurst his hand towards Spock in a swift and violent gesture. Suddenly, the black walls of Jim's mind began to crack, threatening to collapse down on them both. The voices became louder and less coherent as the cracks got bigger.

The final thing Spock heard before he blacked out were the agonising cries of his Captain.

* * *

_Next chapter: "I'll take the call in my quarters." Spock rose from the Captain's seat on the bridge, making no eye contact with any of the crew members as he made his way towards his room. He knew he was being stared at as he walked down the white corridors. People knew what was really going on. He locked his door behind him, allowing his tense shoulders to relax once he was away from prying eyes. "Greetings, Ambassador," he said, making his way over to the screen where the his older counterpart stood. _


End file.
